Better Together
by SiriusMarauderFan
Summary: Percy pushes, Oliver pulls. one shot.


**Author's Note:** Thanks, as always, to my lovely team.

Written for...

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. _Team/Position:_ Lizzy, Seeker. _Task:_ Write a fic inspired by "The first kiss tastes of rain. The last kiss tastes of rust." (The rust here refers to blood.) (Kuchizake wa Uso no Aji manga)

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 **Better Together**

 _1,009 words_

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Percy first realized his feelings for his best friend as they studied for their OWLs by the lake. It had been a beautiful, sunny day and Oliver had demanded that they venture out of the stifling library for once. Percy had conceded in order to keep his study partner.

It felt like they were the only ones out that day as the entire school crammed for exams. There was nothing truly extraordinary about their conversation, or the way Oliver pelted him with crumpled parchment, or the fact that Percy had thought to pack a lunch for them to share.

But then the wind picked up and the rain started out of nowhere, and Percy scrambled to save the textbooks in a blind panic. Oliver, usually the more impulsive of the two, for once managed to prove himself calm and composed in a crisis and conjured a shield from the rain for them and the precious books.

Percy, breathless and sopping wet from the sudden downpour, could only think of how amazing Oliver was for having saved him weeks of work, and how incredible he looked with the t-shirt clinging to his body. Without wasting another moment to second-guess himself, he reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Oliver's shirt, pulling the boy towards him and kissing him.

He began to panic the moment it was over, and he was stuck in the shield with his best friend who probably hated him for randomly kissing him… but Oliver was smiling and wrapping his arms around him, and suddenly it was the best day of Percy's life.

:-:

If Percy could describe war with one word, it would have been 'lonely.' It was what he felt whenever he went home to his sad little flat that was devoid of color and life and noise, and all the things he'd complained about when he'd lived at the Burrow.

This was what war did, he thought. It tore people apart.

But then he knew that was no fault of the Dark Lord, really. Percy had been the one to push away his family and bury himself in work until they stopped trying to contact him. It was also his fault that Oliver finally got fed up with him. Who wouldn't when their boyfriend made more of an effort to appease his boss than make it home for dinner?

Percy hated himself for what he'd become, but he was stuck in a black hole and kept sinking further into the darkness with no way out, no matter how much he fought against it.

:-:

He was too late to save Fred.

It would haunt him for the rest of his life, he knew already. Every time he looked at George, or his mother's face, or the clock at the Burrow, he would think of Fred and how he failed his baby brother.

He tried to hold it together for the sake of his family. What right did he have to cry over Fred's body when he had actively ignored him for years? But when he couldn't hold in his tears anymore, Percy went for a walk.

He was the one to find Oliver, bloodied and bruised, lying behind a tapestry with the body of a Death Eater. Percy had screamed when he stumbled upon them, fearing that Oliver was dead too, but there was just enough life left in him to startle at the noise and reach out his hand for Percy.

There wasn't much he could do with his limited healing experience, but the scream had summoned help and suddenly Oliver was being levitated to the infirmary. Percy slept in the corridor outside that night, having been told he couldn't stay by Oliver's side.

:-:

He was home.

It was good to be back surrounded by family and color, even if the mood was somber and there were no more explosions upstairs. He spent his days cleaning and cooking and watching. Watching George to make sure he was still alive, watching his mum to make sure she didn't need anything. Always watching, never really participating. He felt like an outsider, like he still had to make amends, but he was okay with that. Things would get better with time.

The visit was unexpected. Percy had been out in the garden, trying to get the vegetable patch back in order, when the gate swung open and suddenly there was Oliver Wood, heavily bandaged and sitting in a wheelchair of all things.

"I don't remember anything from the battle," Oliver said as the wheelchair levitated him closer to Percy. "But they tell me I owe you my life."

"Sh-shouldn't you still be in the hospital?" Percy stuttered, nervously tapping his wand against his leg. He hadn't spoken to Oliver since the brunet stormed out of their flat over a year before, and rightfully so. Writing to him, apologizing, would have only made Oliver come back and Percy knew they were better off apart.

He didn't feel like he deserved Oliver anymore, especially not after everything that had happened.

"The healers say I'm good to go, aside from a few cuts and bruises. And the legs." He scowled at his lap, covered by a scarlet blanket. "They're a bit useless right now. No idea if they'll get better."

"Oh, Oliver, I'm so sorry."

Oliver shrugged. "It's alright. I mean, yeah, it's a downer. It's going to make flying difficult for sure, but I'll manage somehow. I just wanted to thank you for finding me and all."

"You're welcome…"

They stared at each other in awkward silence for a moment, Percy still nervously fiddling and Oliver grinning at him, before the redhead took one impulsive step closer. He waited for Oliver to react, letting the brunet reach out and take his hand, pulling him closer and down, letting their lips touch.

Percy broke the kiss quickly, excited but scared as well.

"I don't want to ruin this again," he murmured, biting his lip.

"You won't. We'll get better, together," Oliver promised and pulled Percy down to sit on his lap.


End file.
